


Nightmares that Linger

by plasticlizard022



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticlizard022/pseuds/plasticlizard022
Summary: You have grown close with Bucky because you had helped erase all of the Hydra out of his system - or so you thought. Sometimes his nightmares are so real, he wakes up and doesn't recognize you. Thank goodness you hadn't gotten him a new metal arm yet!Timeframe: Between Civil War & Infinity War
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 12





	Nightmares that Linger

Over the past few weeks, you had begun sharing a bed with the ex-winter soldier. You thought it was a bad idea to get so close with someone who was your patient and Bucky hadn't truly known intimacy since the 40s. So there was usually a noticeable space between the two of you when it was time to call it a night. The nights were never too cold but neither of you mentioned that when you would roll over and press your back against his "for warmth" you would say. You had ice powers, though, and you both knew that you didn't get cold anymore. 

The two of you had developed quite the routine during your extended stay in Wakanda. In the morning, you would eat breakfast while he showered first - he needed the hot water more than you did. You always made sure to make enough for two portions so that he could eat while you took your turn cleaning up. Once you were both clean and had eaten, you would lounge on opposing seats. You had different protocols and tests that you ran every day. It was easier to program someone into a killer than it was to deprogram them. And while you were confident that you had erased most of the Hydra traces inside his mind, you had to be certain that there wasn't anything left buried deep that might cause issues in the future. They had already played that game and it hadn't been fun. 

The morning was Bucky's least favorite part of the day. It was stressful. He had passed every test to date which was wonderful news. But he was just waiting for the day that he would fail - it was inevitable wasn't it? But you would just dismiss him with that disarming smile of yours and he would spend the rest of the day at ease because, in your eyes, he hadn't failed. 

You knew Bucky spent a lot of time outside just letting the fresh air clear his head. The children seemed to love him anyway. You stayed inside on your laptop. You had been using every spare moment taking online psychology classes. You had an MD but that was for the physicality of the body - you were trying to learn more about the mind so that you could be more helpful for Bucky's recovery. But it was stressful. When you had gone to college the first time, not only was it the only thing you had to focus on, but you were so much more innocent. It was just a little overwhelming. 

In the evening, the two of you would eat dinner quietly together and watch the sunset. You had the perfect view of the sunset from your dining room window every evening. Then the both of you would retire to the couch and you would read to Bucky until your throat grew dry. You don't even quite remember how it all started but now it was your favorite part of every day. He would sit beside you with his one arm reclined against he back of the couch. He would sit close enough that he could read over your shoulder though you could tell he didn't. Sometimes he fell asleep to the sound of your voice and you would cover him with a blanket and let him rest. Usually his arm ended up around your shoulder, rubbing up and down the length of your arm. It always gave you goosebumps which would make him laugh. He had such a lovely laugh. 

You came to bed later than usual that night. While you don't exactly remember why or when you began reading to him, you know why the two of you shared a bed. You had gotten drunk. You weren't an alcoholic but sometimes you found that that was the only thing to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your plate and you had someone else's life in your hands. You didn't want to fail Bucky. And you had told him that. 

"I've had payments before, but never for this long," You explained as you laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. The bottle of liquor was in a language you couldn't read and much stronger than expected. You did feel quite relaxed and loose, though, which had been the goal.

"You mean patients?" Bucky asked. He sat in a chair across from the couch and watched with amusement. 

You rolled your eyes. "Well, duh. That's what I said. Now hush!" You took a long swig that turned into a chug of the quickly disappearing bottle. You sloshed around what little was left around the inside of the bottle. 

Bucky held his hands up defensively. "Alright, alright," he chuckled and leaned back. 

You smiled and sat up. "I like that," you snorted drunkenly. You pointed at him and giggled a little lighter. "You got a real nice laugh. I'm just so worried that I'll mess it up." Her words were both heavily enunciated and slurred together. "Cause you're pretty cool and also like real complicated." You groaned and slouched on the couch.

Bucky wasn't laughing anymore. Were you regretting helping him? "You've done enough for me, Y/N. More than I could ask," he said firmly. If you needed to stop or go, then by all means he wasn't going to beg you to stay. But you had become the only true constant and joy in his miserable life. 

You rolled your eyes again. "You aren't listening," you sighed. You finished the bottle and tossed it over your shoulder. It the ground with a crash that didn't phase you at all. You moved off the couch and crawled over so that you were on your knees in front of him. You placed your hands on his lap and rubbed his knees. "I just want you to succeed and if you don't then it's my fault and I don't know what I'm doing." 

That wasn't the most reassuring thing to hear. But how many people had had to pull Hydra training out of someone before. If anyone had done it before you, he was sure that they hadn't done it successfully. "I've passed all the tests so far. So far, there's no traces of Hydra left. You're doing a stand up job," Bucky assured you (and also tried assuring himself) and tucked your hair back. It was nice to know that she really did want him to succeed even if it was just so that she didn't fail. 

Your chin rested on his knees. "That's not. . . you're still not listening," you whined. "I'm real smart, okay? I started my residency when I was twenty-four, okay? That means I'm real smart so I know what I'm doing. You'll always have Hydra in here." You poked his chest rather roughly. "Not here. I'm not scared of in here." You moved your finger up to his head and poked his forehead. 

He grabbed your wrist and held it tightly so that you'd stop poking him. He was quiet. "I said you're doing a stand up job," he repeated. He wasn't thinking about all of the bad he had done when you were around. Or at least, he was thinking of it less often. She was so worried about the PTSD and trauma and all of the emotions that come with that package but she was helping with that whether she knew it or not. 

You smiled cheekily and laughed bashfully. You both held eye contact for a long time before you leaned in to kiss him. You knew he was too nervous to start something like this. You knew he was full of it and that he was still struggling with his past - it was impossible to miss. But he had just been such a sweetheart and you had a high amount of alcohol in your system. If you were sober, then neither of you would've ever made the first move. 

You moved onto his lap and slipped your arms around his neck. You could tell that he wanted to protest and protest for your sake but he didn't. And you were glad because it would've just been a waste of time. Drunk minds speak sober hearts. "You're not so bad, you know," you smiled and broke the kiss. You traced your finger over his short beard and through his long hair. She wanted to cut it. "You just need a shave and you might just be perfect." You giggled childishly and kissed him again, your tongue parting his lips and sliding over his. 

Perfect was not a word he had heard used to describe in a very long time - maybe ever. Well, according to you he was near-perfect. That was good enough for him. A swarm of butterflies released in his stomach and, had he been the type, he might've cried a little. his insides felt warm - and his outsides grew warm too. 

You slipped your hands up under his shirt and bit at his lower lip. You growled and laughed playfully. His stomach was firm and your fingers pressed against his abs just to verify that they were, in fact, real. You traced the outlines of his muscles and hummed happily. You slipped from his lap and grabbed the front of his shirt. You yanked him to the bedroom, falling backwards on the bed you pulled him over you. He used his one arm for balance which left you to do all of the exploring on his body. 

You struggled a little too much with getting his shirt off. Your hand slipped and you smacked yourself in the face. Bucky chuckled and sat up to help take his shirt off. But you began to sob because you had hurt yourself. You were sobbing so much that he really didn't know what to do at first. He stayed seated beside you as you crawled under the sheets to cry your little heart out. He rubbed her back until you fell asleep. He laid down beside you and fell asleep once he was certain that you were also asleep. 

He had slept so soundly that night, with a hand on you. It was so nice to not be alone. And you would admit it, you had been lonely too. You missed the camaraderie of living in the Avengers' facility with everyone easily accessible. She had made friends here but it wasn't quite the same. Bucky had been terrified of asking you to stay the night again - he was so certain that you wouldn't want to stay and that it was one time drunken mistake. You didn't bring it up because you were embarrassed with your drunken actions. But when the sun went down, you just didn't leave. The two of you didn't have to say anything because you just crawled into his bed that night and slipped your fingers around his and had fallen asleep near instantly. 

Now you stayed with him every night. You hadn't even officially moved in with him. Neither of you talked about it. It felt like if you mentioned it, the spell might be broken and you would go home to your empty bed. Bucky had grown so accustomed to your presence in bed that he hadn't been able to fall asleep when you came to bed so late. 

"I'm just. . . overwhelmed right now. I don't really want to talk about it," You whispered and moved under the covers. Bucky took the initiative to pull you into his arms. You didn't even resist. The warm envelope of his arm, the fading smell of soap on his skin, the tickle of his beard against your forehead, the tickle of his breath on your eyelids - it was all so comforting. You cried softly and wiped your eyes quickly but apologized for crying faster. "I think I'm just tired."

He didn't push for you to explain further; it would've been unfair seeing as how you tried to goad his own traumas out of him every morning and he wouldn't share them. Somethings were just too bad to share with the world and he wanted to take them to the grave. "You can take a break," Bucky whispered and rubbed your back slowly with his knuckles. He already knew your reply because you had had this argument a dozen times over. 

"I'm too tired to keep telling you the same thing. You spun around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It was your form of protest while also no sacrificing the comfort of his embrace. You held onto his wrist and exhaled slowly. "I just need sleep," you repeated softly as sleep beckoned you. But you had become a restless sleeper so you rolled around his loose grasp. You slipped your arms up around him, crooking your elbows around his neck. Your head rested against his chest so that the lullaby of his heartbeat could send you back to sleep. 

You woke with a strong hand around your throat. You opened your bloodshot eyes and gasped for air. Glossy blue eyes stared down at you - eyes you almost recognized as Bucky's but he hadn't looked at you that way since. . . since he was the Winter Soldier. Your vision was blurred with tears and your tired arms beat against his bicep. His hold didn't loosen so you had to act quickly. 

You had been an Avenger for years now. You had been taught how to fight. There was a particularly helpful move that the Black Widow herself had taught you. You manged to get your legs in position and flip him in a way that contorted his body causing him to lose his grip. You rolled backwards and fell off of the bed. You locked yourself in the bathroom.

You stared at the water running down the drain in the sink before your hands guided themselves to the water to splash your face. You were awake, right? This felt like a dream. A bad dream. You sat on the toilet lid; your elbows rested on your knees and your forehead leaned down against your shaky hands. 

There was a small tap at the door. "Y/N? Are you okay?" Bucky's voice asked quietly. You could hear the pain in his voice and that hurt you, too. You stood from the seat and moved to the door but your hand froze on the handle. 

"What happened?" You asked instead. You wanted to trust him but you had to know that he had completely shaken whatever had come over him. You knew the longer you waited behind a locked door the more you would damage the trust you had built with him and the healing that he had begun. She didn't want to hurt him but she would use her ice powers if he tried something again. 

"I had a nightmare," Bucky answered quietly. He was really just worried about you. He realized that that wasn't a good enough answer because he had nightmares nearly every night but they had never caused him to hurt you before this. "Can you just tell me if you're alright?" 

The amount of time you stood there with your hand on the doorknob could've been ten days or it could've been ten seconds. But the door opened with a foreboding creak. You kept your hands at your side though your body language was tense you were trying not to appear afraid. She didn't want to ruin any progress they had made (though tonight was clearly a major setback). "I'm fine," you said. 

Your tired, bleary eyes had missed the faint red outlines of fingers on your throat. Bucky didn't miss them. He stared at your throat and his face contorted in guilt. "I just had this terrible dream where I was still working for Hydra and. . . and I woke up and my hand was around your throat. I didn't even know I was doing it," he explained quickly and poorly. He didn't realize that he had begun strangling you in his sleep - he was basically doing the sleepwalking version of asphyxiating you. 

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too tired and stressed to add something like this to your plate. "Just go back to bed," you instructed. "We'll sort this during our session in the morning." He watched as you stumbled into the living room and plopped down on the bed because you were too tired to go home at this point. And you certainly weren't about to crawl back into bed with someone who sleep-strangles. 

Bucky sat down in the hall and listened to your soft cries. His heart had never felt heavier. He had really felt like he was making progress, too. Now he had broken your heart and your trust. 

Only that wasn't it at all. Maybe for a moment you had been unsure of where his mental state was. Really, you were just upset that you had failed him. You had promised not to bring him out of the ice until he was better. You had done everything she could from that end. These morning sessions were supposed to catch anomalies like this to prevent them. You would just have to try harder even if that meant pushing past your breaking point. 

Bucky couldn't sleep even after you stopped crying. He moved out into the living room to check on you. He pulled a blanket over your body and sat down in front of you. Your (Y/E/C) eyes met his crystal blue ones. "Don't apologize," you whispered before he could say anything. "I'm going to try harder to fix this." 

Bucky sighed and took your hand in his. He pulled your fingers to his lips and kissed them before holding your palm against his cheek. He did feel sorry. He was trying to be better and he was doing it mostly for you at this point. "You're doing all you can," he assured you. Fixing someone's mind wasn't simple science - it was far more complicated than anything she had done before. "You'll figure this out, okay?" 

You felt like he was blowing smoke up your ass but you were too tired to care. If he didn't think (or at least say) that you were failing him, then you had to be doing something right. You would try harder and fix him. And then you could sleep all day and all night to make up for those lost hours now. You tugged on his arm and he crawled in behind you on the couch and slipped his arm around your hip. He kissed the top of your head. "It was just a bad dream," he assured her. There was nothing to be done about it as far as he was concerned. But you had already fallen asleep against his warm body.

**Author's Note:**

> This was much longer than I thought it would be. It really got away from me! Also I wrote this at like 2am and was way too tired to proofread so I'm really hoping for the best here because I'm hardly lucid - my subconscious is totally in control here so I'm sure it's not completely put together. So hoped you enjoyed it regardless!


End file.
